


The Dark Room

by pumpkinscript



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Creepy Mark Jefferson, F/M, Kidnapped, Rape/Non-con Elements, The Dark Room, life is strange - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 20:16:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20069947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pumpkinscript/pseuds/pumpkinscript
Summary: You’ve been kidnapped.The place was dark... red tones bathed the room. Your hands and feet were tied down, no— duck-taped to a chair. Was there a tarp under your feet? There was a flashing light coming from somewhere. Oh, God! You were being photographed!





	The Dark Room

I woke up to a bright light, flooding in under my eyelids. My focus was foggy and I felt sick to my stomach a little bit. 

Click!

I saw a sudden flash of bright light. Wait... why couldn't I move my legs? My hands? I looked down at my arms, which were duct-taped to a chair. 

Click!

Duct-tape? I struggled to move, my movements slow and delayed. I just didn't feel right.Was I drugged? 

Click!

When things finally came into focus, I looked around me. I was in a dark room lit up by stage lights. 

Click!

I was truly duct-taped to a chair; my hands and ankles both bound so I couldn't move. 

Click!

What the fuck was that clicking sound? I looked over to my left and I made out a figure standing there, leaning towards me, holding what looked like a box up to his face? No, a camera. 

Click!

The figure behind the lens suddenly came into focus and I made out his features. He was tall, thin, dark-haired and had a light goatee. His black and white glasses were just barely visible behind the camera....

"Mr. Jefferson?

Click!

A face appeared as the camera lowered. 

"(Y/n)," Mr. Jefferson said softly. "You're awake." 

"Where am I?"

"You, my dear," he said, "are in my dark room."

"What?"

"My dark room," he continued, "is a photography room where I can truly capture the pure expressions and emotions on my subjects' faces. This camera," he held up the camera and showed off the lens, "truly helps me encompass fear; innocence."

"What— I don't— I don't understand," I said, but right as the words came out of my mouth, I did understand. I was captured. Taped to a chair. And Mr. Jefferson was taking pictures of me. Sick, perverted, pictures. 

"What the fuck!" I yelled suddenly. 

"So you figured me out," he chuckled. "My other subjects I had captured before had such an innocence to them, expressions of pure emotions. Even the poor, late Max, who happened to have the most pure expression of all; at least until I met you, my dear," he ran his hand along my chin which sent chills down my back. I jerked my head to the side. "Your expressions aren't just pure. They aren't just raw; they truly encompass the meaning of youth. Not just what it looks like to be a young adult, but to feel it."

"You're fucking sick."

He laughed a low, husky laugh. "No, (y/n). I'm creative. I have been able to capture your beauty; the magnificence behind your eyes in my lens. You're more beautiful than any other participant I've had before, including that Rachel Amber."

"Rachel Amber is dead. You killed her! You were the one who murdered her! You sick, perverted, twisted psychopa—"

He leaned forward, placing his camera on the table next to me and covered my mouth with his hand. "Shh, shh, shh. I only killed her because she couldn't find a way to stay pure for my artwork. And because I was getting tired of her; I got bored of having sex with her every day. I needed someone new."

I tensed up, my heart rate skyrocketing. "Oh, shit no. You can go fuck yourself all the way to hell."

"Oh I was planning to fuck you all the way to hell," he smiled sadistically. "After I took adequate pictures of you, of course, which I seem to have accomplished already. You've been such a good participant."

"I'm not a participant. I was taken by force," I scowled."

"Doesn't mean you aren't a participant — or will be," he said, placing his hands on either side of the chair, next to my arms and leaning dangerously close to my face. I could feel his cool breath on my skin and it made me shiver. "You truly are such a beauty," he marveled. "Too bad you won't last too long for others to share you... then again, I wasn't planning on sharing." He traced my jawline with his two front fingers and grinned. 

"Don't," I started. 

"Don't what?" he said evilly. "We haven't even started, yet.

I just growled back at him and said, "in your dreams, motherfucker." He laughed. 

Suddenly, he pressed his lips softly to mine. I pulled back, turning my head the other way. Suddenly, he grabbed my face and jerked it back, facing him again. "Don't fuck around, you stupid bitch," he said, "or you'll meet your end much faster than I anticipated. Just like a few others like Chloe, Kate, Victoria.... That's what happens when you try to fuck with me," he said sternly, then laughed to himself. He leaned in again and kissed me. It was a soft kiss, not at all like the rough one I was expecting. One hand left the side of the chair and came up to caress my cheek and neck. 

It didn't take long for him to deepen the kiss, his tongue prying my mouth open and sliding over my lips. I had not choice but to kiss him back; I didn't want to end up dead. I kissed him back passionately, deepening the kiss even more. My tongue exchanged the favor and caressed the inside of his mouth. I tried not to gag. As he kissed me, I felt his hands start to work on the duct tape, slowly unwrapping it from around my wrists. He pulled back and unwrapped my feet, standing me up. 

As soon as I was standing, he slammed me into the wall to the left of us. I was still weak from the drug he injected into me, so it hurt when I hit the wall. His kissing got rougher and harder, and his hands slid down from my neck to my waist. And suddenly, he started kissing my chin, and then my jaw, and then kissed my neck, causing me to throw my head back against the wall. His hands pulled my waist against him, and I felt his crotch hit mine. I noticed a warmth spreading across my face, and I buried my head on his shoulder. His hands slid back onto my ass and pulled me against him even harder, grinding his bulge against my crotch. 

His hands moved from my ass and slid up my shirt, slowly pushing it off, leaving me standing there in my black sports bra and pants, which he soon slipped off as well. His cold fabric against her bare skin made her shiver. He kissed me roughly again and his hands roamed my body unforgivingly. Then, he pulled back. 

"I'll see you tomorrow," he whispered into my ear. 

"What? You're not going to kill me?"

Jefferson just laughed and sauntered over to the door. As he opened it, he turned back to me and said two words granted to haunt me until I did die. 

"Not yet."

**Author's Note:**

> You can also find my works on my Wattpad page @pumpkinscript


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